bar in the Blue Coyote. When Will Tyler had fired a bullet through Nicky’s innocent heart, she’d not only lost a brother, she’d lost a damned good bartender. She would mourn him for a long time to come. But for now, she’d channeled her grief into rage. Tyler would pay for what he’d done. Before she was finished with them, his whole family would pay.
So far, she’d left his punishment to Abner and the law. But she couldn’t depend on the legal system to give her justice, let alone vengeance. She could always use her Dallas connection to call in a hit on the man. But that would be expensive. It would also be too fast and too easy to give her the satisfaction she craved. She wanted to see Will Tyler squirm. She wanted to see him suffer.
Stella had planned to close the Blue Coyote at ten, as she usually did on Sunday nights, but the sad-eyed cowboy in the corner booth, nursing his can of Dos Equis beer, showed no inclination to leave.
She might have given him a gentle nudge out the door, but Stella had recognized the lanky young man. She’d seen him come in a few times with the crew from the Rimrock. Last spring, early on, he’d given Lute Fletcher a few rides to town in his old rust bucket of a pickup. The kid didn’t look like much, but it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about him.
What was his name? She searched her memory and found it. Ralph, that’s what one of the men had called him. She’d make an effort to remember and use it.
Slipping an old Hank Williams CD in the boom box, she turned the volume down low. Then she popped the tab on a fresh beer, sidled over to the booth, and took the seat across from him.
“That beer of yours must be getting stale, Ralph,” she said, smiling. “Here, have a cold one on the house.”
“Thanks.” He accepted the can with a shy smile. He looked young, barely twenty-one, Stella guessed. His eyes were light brown, and his mud-colored hair wanted cutting. The hand that clasped the beer can was nicked and calloused, the fingernails streaked with embedded dirt.
“You look sadder than a hound dog pup, cowboy,” she said in her folksiest manner. “If there’s anything you need to get off your chest, I’m a good listener.”
The melancholy strains of “Your Cheatin’ Heart” drifted through the darkened bar. The young cowhand sipped the cold beer, maybe weighing the wisdom of sharing his troubles. After a long moment’s hesitation, he sighed. “It’s my wife, Vonda,” he said. “We had to get married this summer on account of she was in a family way. Mostly it’s okay, bein’ married. My boss, Will Tyler, let us move into one of the little family houses on the ranch. It’s nice enough, and the rent’s a lot cheaper than livin’ in town, but . . .”
He tipped the can to his lips, his Adam’s apple quivering as he swallowed. “It’s always about the damned money!” The words exploded out of him. “Will pays as good as most ranchers around here, and we got insurance for when the baby comes, thank God. But that ain’t enough for Vonda. She wants to move to town, where she can hang out with her friends. She wants fancy clothes and her own cell phone and her own car to cat around in. She wants a big-screen TV and all kinds of furniture and gadgets for the baby.”
He raked his hand through his unruly hair. “Lord, I work my ass off, but cowboyin’ don’t pay all that much. Tonight, when I tried to tell her how it was, Vonda threw me out. She says I’m not gettin’ any you-know-what till I can figure out a way for her to have what she wants.”
“How old is Vonda?” Stella asked.
“Sixteen. Just a kid. If I hadn’t married her when she got pregnant, her folks woulda thrown me in jail, her daddy bein’ sheriff and all. Even then, they threw her out and won’t have nothin’to do with us.”
Something clicked in Stella’s head. So this downtrodden cowboy was Abner’s son-in-law. Interesting. She gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m guessing you haven’t done any bartending.”
“Nope. But I’m right sorry about you losing your brother, Miss Stella. Damn shame what happened.” He brightened. “Say, maybe you could teach me bartendin’.”
“I’m afraid I need someone with experience.” Stella rose and smoothed out her tight denim